


My Road

by katmaria



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Family Issues, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-25 22:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18270368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmaria/pseuds/katmaria
Summary: The journey of Faestina Zinraeli, and how she came to join Chasing Obsidian.





	My Road

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the OC Big Bang with Challenge-Zone!

It’s been a long time, since I was last Faestina Zinraeli.

… Some context would probably help, yeah.

My mother’s name was Radmilla Stroud. She was a sweet and young-hearted woman, and no matter what was in front of her, she always put others ahead of her. I’d idolized her, much more than I should have, for a long time. She was the real, tangible evidence to me that there were things in the world worth protecting.

My father, well, he was a different story entirely. At least, I’m assuming he is, from what he didn’t do. He was Athtar Zinraeli.

They met when my mother was barely eighteen, barely even an adult herself. And, while he’d never told her how old he was, he seemed youthful to her whenever they met.

Of course, that meant almost nothing, not with him being an elf. With how he always talked about old wars and elven politics, she was never sure of just how old he actually was.

They met in the forests near the village she grew up and lived in, with him hiking through the woods without a care in the world. He was hauntingly beautiful, to her, and it was love at first sight.

She mentioned once that she was never sure of exactly when he would show up again. He had social duties and travels, and he always swore he would slip away at the first chance, even with their time being cut short each and every visit.

He was a mystery, constantly dangling in front of her face and being yanked away before she could grasp it. Whatever fleeting interest she’d had in the other boys in the village bled out of her when she met him, and she put herself into the best behavior she could, acting like the best housewife anyone could ever be. She did her best to always have his favorite tea ready at a moment’s notice, knowing exactly how he took it and what was necessary for it.

Then, she realized she was pregnant.

It took her a while, her cycle had always been odd and abnormal, but she noticed patterns, kept an eye on the time as the weeks turned to months, and started showing later than she’d thought she would. She was sure of it even before her stomach started to expand, and she’d been ecstatic when she realized that it wasn’t all in her head. After so many little connections and short visits, they could finally live together and have the happy life she’d dreamed of. By the time he showed up again, she was showing more, enough for most people to gather that she was pregnant relatively fast, and was unintentionally more affectionate than usual, which had initially put him off. He questioned her change in behavior, where she told him that she was pregnant with his child.

He was terrified in those first few moments.

Then, his face broke in a wide smile and he hugged her tightly, careful around her stomach, and started swinging her around, proudly proclaiming that she’d be a fantastic mother.

Funny, how he’d never once mentioned that he’d be a wonderful father. Or even a decent one.

He stayed for a long time, much longer than he ever had before, and helped her whenever he thought she was pushing herself too far, which eventually led to her telling him that she was pregnant, not crippled.

He eventually received a message from his superiors, trying to figure out where the hell he’d gone and what trouble he’d gotten himself into, where he simply assures them that he’s been busy, and that he’d talk to them when he got back. He told my mother that he needed to go and tell them the news himself, with it being _such a_ **_big_ ** _deal_ that he was having a child. He told her to stay put, since the journey was treacherous, and completely unfit for a pregnant woman, much less one that was untrained in any kind of fighting. She understood the logic behind that, and agreed, so she stayed home, to wait for him.

He sent her a letter when he arrived, about a month later, and told her that things were hectic, but he would send his people to get her as soon as he was able.

And then nothing.

No other letters.

No Sending spells.

Absolute silence.

He wasn’t there when my mother was puking up everything she ate.

He wasn’t there when she was cramping from me kicking at her organs.

He wasn’t there while she worked to support herself and me for when I would be born.

He wasn’t there when she was bent in half from contractions, going into labor early.

He wasn’t there when I was born, tiny and pink and underweight and _frail_ , even for a newborn.

 

Despite his absence, it took a long time for her to accept that he wasn’t going to come back, and if he did, it was only to get a slap from me, or half the village, before getting chased out.

She gave me an elven-inspired name, with his family’s name. She wanted him to come back, apologizing for being gone so long with an explanation, and we could all be together as a family and live like she’d wanted for us.

She’d given up on that by the time I was three.

She did her best to take care of me, with the rest of the village pitching in where they could, sharing surplus and sending all the kids out for games and such so the parents could rest, and we managed to survive. I’d still wake up some nights to hear her crying to herself, dreaming of what could’ve been, had she done better, or if he’d acted like an actual father.

No matter what I tried, I don’t think I ever got it into her head that she wasn’t at fault for him being an ass.

I hated him.

Hated what he did to her.

Hated the fact that I was there and _he wasn’t_ when all she’d ever wanted was him.

Hated that every single time she looked at me and saw his eyes and wanted to cry, but held strong so I wouldn’t see.

I wanted him to feel every bit of pain she felt, all the nights alone, the days where she’d tell me she wasn’t hungry so I could eat my fill, all the sacrifices she’d made for me so I could live without her name.

But somehow, she never wanted him hurt.

She rarely asked for things, but when she did, it was never focused on herself. She wanted the people she cared about safe.

She never told me whether or not he was included in that.

 

* * *

 

Apparently, I’d inherited my mother’s young, mischievous spirit, at least as far as she was concerned. I found it hilarious to climb up into places I knew she couldn’t reach, and with the other children in the village being, well, _children,_ they were of no help to her and neither were the other adults. I did my best to use what I knew to help my mother, sticking to the shadows and distracting people.

I believe I was twelve when I met Nithroel, the elven trader that my mother was already close to. She’d come by every now and then to sell her things in the village, but my mother had me doing other things whenever Nithroel was in town. They were close, but we’d never met until she recognized me as someone of fellow elven heritage, and she started talking animatedly about Elven culture, or I think she was because I had no idea what she was talking about. After a few moments, she stopped, like she’d asked me a question, and I quietly mumbled that I had no idea what she was talking about. She froze, watching me with wide eyes, slowly bringing her hands to cover her face.

She was _furious_ at whichever one of my parents had decided that not raising me with my full heritage was the best move possible for me, and demanded to know which one made that choice. It was then that my mother came running over, looking for me, and I found out that my mother knew this woman. She told me to wait for a moment, went into her carriage, and pulled out a few books, handing them to me and telling me to read through them to try and learn Elven, and that she would be able to help more when she was next in town. I tried to refuse them, but my mother stopped me, thanking her profusely for the gifts, then ushering both of us off, back home. I set the books down on the floor, and tried to question her about her actions, but she brushed it off and told me to try looking through the books the “nice lady” had given her.

I wouldn’t find out about their real relationship until a few years later, but that’s a story for another time.

It wasn’t until a few months later that Nithroel was in town again, and I’d learned enough to be able to shakily greet her, making her laugh and correct my admittedly crappy pronunciations. She coached me through the correct way to do it and explained why it was pronounced the way it was. That time, she came with books more geared to people like me, ones who were learning Elven as a second language, not during infancy. It took me a long time, practicing as much as I could, and Nithroel considered me a fluent speaker when I was seventeen, which was when she gave me a gray cloak, which she said would help me stay out of sight and blend into the crowd. With me planning to move into the city, as well as my sneaky nature, she wanted me to stay safe with the big jump. She’d always talked about Elven culture, hours on end about the cities and her home village, and I talked about the city I was going to live in, the shadows in its underground, and the places she could sell her wares safely.

 

Then, there was the night I screwed everything up and took everyone else down with me.

I’d only been living in Torrine for a few years, working as one of the waitresses at the Twisted Dragon.

At least, that was what we told the tax collectors.

The tavern was the place the Stewards of the Mighty would gather, plan, and celebrate our victories. It was a thieves’ guild, and we were devoted to trying to fix Torrine’s corruption. Most of us were people who’d been wronged, put in jail for other’s transgressions, forced into fines for ridiculous ordinances, or if we simply had it in our heads that something needed to be done.

And we were willing to do whatever was needed to do it.

Most of what we took went to the guild’s shares, or to the needy people in Torrine who were struggling.

We were the people who had nothing to lose. We stuck together, protected our own to the very end, even if it meant putting the rest of us in danger.

They stuck to that, even when I made the worst mistake of my life.

 

* * *

 

The nobles organized some event, and they enlisted the Dragon to help keep the alcohol flowing and the various food coming. While we were all ‘working,’ only a few of us were actually there to take things, just to help keep suspicion down. For the night, my name was Lia, a young, shy elven girl, trying to support her dear, _dear_ family almost a week’s journey away. I played the part of a new hire for the tavern, still learning the ropes despite Idoras, the owner, trusting me with such a big event. Because of my green status, I wasn’t particularly close to any of the nobles, just the ones the others could tell were sweet while drunk off their asses, even if some of them had some grouchy moments if they didn’t get more alcohol in the time they expected it.

It was maybe halfway through the night, I’d nicked some things I couldn’t for the life of me understand why they were even _carrying_ when they were planning on getting blackout drunk, but I wasn’t worried about that.

I may have mentioned nobles that I noticed were _far too_ on edge to let me get _anywhere near_ them to some of the other servers, but of course that was just normal server banter. What else would it be?

One of them was interesting, not quite as on edge as some of the others, but there was definitely something about him that set off my nerves.

I should’ve listened to myself.

I’d snagged a jewel or two from his pockets, a few gold coins that had slipped to the floor, little things like that. It’d worked fine for each of the other nobles, and I hoped he’d be just as dumb as the rest of them.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

I’d slipped away long before he noticed, getting another noble a drink, and I could hear him slam against the table and shout that he’d been robbed. His neighbors tried to calm him down, but he was having none of it. Out of sight, I slipped away, remembering the warning our supervisor had given us about the passageways in the walls that would keep us from being seen. He’d mentioned that it was easy to get lost in them, especially with all of us having no prior experience with that sort of thing.

I escaped in the darkness, never spotted.

 

I got back home sometime around midnight, taking the long way meant it taking a long time, but it was simple enough. Once inside, I checked over and accounted for everything I’d taken over the night. Just over sixty gold pieces, jewels of varying rarity I’d need to have appraised, and a few golden trinkets from their outfits. While not necessarily a lot in monetary standards, knowing that I’d made the noble curse and scream while escaping unscathed was more than enough for any of us. I set my things down and pried up the floorboard under my bed, dusting off the small safe I used for safekeeping. It was a good place to keep my stolen goods while waiting for whatever fuss was stirred to die down. I slipped the key out from under my shirt, and put away the jewels and trinkets before quickly setting it back in its place, covered by the floorboard. I stripped out of the uniform, setting it away for whenever my next shift was. I put the gold pieces away, before climbing into bed and falling asleep after the long evening on my feet.

 

I woke up somewhat later than usual in the morning. We were planning to meet up at the Dragon later, after it closed, so I wasn’t in any hurry. I still needed to go see if I could appraise the jewels without getting too much suspicion on my back, but that could wait. I left to get dressed and planned to head out for some breakfast. The marketplace was bustling, as usual, making me almost vanish into the crowd.

“Did you hear about those thieves the guards caught last night?”

_What._

“Oh, yeah. Bunch of them were working over at Twisty, weren’t they?”

_No. No, nononono._

“Yeah, the Stewards of the Mighty,” she mocked, “I can’t say I agree with their methods, but they did their best for the little people here.”

“Mhm. They were trying to make the city better, even with them being criminals. Do you think that was all of them?”

“I doubt it, there’s too many. Heard they’re still looking for another one, some elven girl. Offering a big reward, too.”

“Really? I’m surprised. You’d think they’d just slap them with a fine or something.”

“They’re too big, I think. They’ll probably hang for ‘Crimes Against the Crown’ or something like that. It’s too bad, my wife likes their food. Said it was better than mine sometimes.”

 

I needed to get out of the city.

_Fast._

I swallowed the lump in my throat and set my face as neutral as I could. I sped through the rest of my shopping, now not needing much of it, and rushed home, avoiding the eyes of everyone around me.

Keziah, Ilari, Janko, Rajendra…

_Martrix_.

Young, hardy Martrix, only there because…

All of them, just, there, waiting to **die**.

And by some stupid stroke of luck, I’d made it out alive.

I felt less comfort than I knew I should’ve when I remembered that no one would say a thing against the guild, ignorant to the end.

I needed to go. The tavern would be open but not busy, and with the rumors already going around it would stay quiet for a while.

We’ve had to help people leave before, but I’d never expected that I would need it too.

I realized then that I’d collapsed near my door, crying as I’d worked through my thoughts. I slowly stood, wiping way the tracks with my sleeve. I dusted myself off and went digging through my things, trying to figure out what I needed with me and what I could leave behind. I pulled out my old disguise kit, quickly setting up a simple disguise for me to leave the city with.

I didn’t want to die.

 

* * *

 

The Dragon was open, though it was mostly empty. There were a few early birds milling about, but no one sitting at the bar.

Salkas was manning it, cleaning some of the glasses and absentmindedly straightening the bottles in the shelf. He was one of the few humans I knew in the guild, and he took pride in being a shoulder for unsuspecting people to cry to.

“Not often there’s a stranger here. What can I get you?”

_“I’m no stranger, Sal.”_ I whispered, slowly pulling my hood away from my head. Salkas froze for a moment, before putting his face back to the practiced neutral. _“I didn’t get caught yesterday.”_

_“Do you know what happened to the others?”_

_“Nothing but rumors flying around town. I was gone before I knew there was trouble.”_ Salkas slowly slid my usual drink in front of me, watching me with a worried face.

_“This isn’t your fault, Fae.”_

_“I get that, it just… hasn’t sunk in yet.”_ I glanced down at the mug, slowly sipping at the liquid. _“I think I’ll have to leave the city.”_

_“Surely it isn’t that extreme.”_

_“I overheard some women talking before. Said everyone else that was caught was going to hang, but they were still looking for ‘some elven girl’ in town. How many elven girls went home late last night?”_ He slowly shrugged, before mumbling curses under his breath.

_“I’ll talk with some of the others, organize something to get you out. Have you thought up any stories?”_

_“Blaming raiders, probably. Attacked the village, killed my father, I need to go help rebuild and mourn.”_

_“Do you know if you’re coming back?”_

_“I don’t know yet. Maybe, once the king changes. But I’m not sure.”_

_“Okay. Give it… two hours? That should be enough time to get someone over there and for you to pack. I don’t believe Delron has any plans, so I’ll send him over if he’s free.”_ I slowly sighed, before leaving a few of my silver pieces on the bar.

_“Thank you, Sal. I appreciate this.”_

_“We protect our own. It’s what we do. Have a good life, Fae.”_ I quickly set the hood over my head, smiling at him before escaping into the world.

 

An hour and a half later, I was packed and changed, now in a simple dress.

For now, I was Ethea Adlamin, a young woman who’d just received word that her village had been attacked and her father killed, and she _needed_ to get home to help them. A knock sounded at the door, and I slowly opened it, revealing Delron standing there, looking like any normal coachboy.

_“You called, Miss?”_

_“Please, Aiden. Ethea is fine.”_

_“No, no I could never.”_

_“If you must, it’s Miss Adlamin. Are you ready to go?”_

_“Only if you are.”_ He took my bag from behind me, and packed it into the back of the wagon, before helping me into it. He sat down behind the horses, two spotted breeds, though I didn’t immediately recognize what. “So, what’s your story?”

_“Village got attacked by raiders. Father’s dead, village is a mess, so on so forth. They want me home to help mourn and I don’t know if I’m staying there yet. If they ask, I’ve got the jewels to sell along the way to help pay for materials and for the funeral. I’m hiding them in my dress. I’m not confident in my Common, but I can sort-of hold a conversation.”_

_“What, leaving the talking to me again?”_

_“We both know I’m horrible at thinking on my feet, I’d out both of us in a minute.”_ We laughed together, and he gave a rueful smile.

_“I’m gonna miss you, Fae.”_

_“I’ll miss all of you guys, too. Luton’s only a day away.”_

_“I know, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you if the guards would look that far. They could.”_

_“I’ll have to mention it to my mother anyway, when I get there. She’ll be able to help. Could go traveling with Nithroel, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind finally showing me all those elven towns she talked about.”_ Delron took a deep breath, glancing up at the road further down.

_“Now or never. Let’s do this.”_

_“I have the utmost faith in you.”_

A guard yelled for us to stop.

Delron jerked his horses back, looking shocked down at the man.

_“Is everything alright, Aiden?”_

_“Yes, Miss, just give me a moment,”_ he jumped from his place at the carriage, “What can I do for you?”

“Just protocol. Why’re you leaving the city?”

“My employer’s received word from her family saying that something’s happened. Unfortunately, I don’t know what, but, well… She’s been beside herself since she got the letter.” The guard gave him a suspicious look, before looking over his shoulder, just seeing me.

“In the carriage! Step out!”

“Sir, her Common isn’t the best, would you just let me, _Miss Adlamin, could you step out for this wonderful guard?”_ I slowly walked to the edge of the cart, letting him help me down.

_“Is everything alright?”_

“Ma’am, I can’t understand you.”

“I told you, her Common isn’t the best. She’s going to need clarification. She asked if everything’s alright.”

“For now, yes,” he spoke slowly, “What town are you going to?”

“Alamore. I was born there.”

“Your name?”

“Ethea Adlamin.”

“You seem to be in a hurry.”

“I got a letter from my family. They’d been attacked by… _Aiden, what is the word for raiders?”_

“That would be raiders, Miss.”

“They were attacked by raiders,” I worried at the edge of my lip, trying to hold steady, “My father…” ‘Aiden’ was quick to wrap around me, mumbling comfort in Elvish. The guard faltered, unsure of how to handle an upset woman.

“Sir, may we go? I think it would be for the best if we were on our way.”

“Of course. Ma’am, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” He helped ‘Aiden’ boost me back into the carriage, and he quickly climbed in himself, nodding to the guard.

“Keep an eye out for bandits. Who knows what those Stewards will do now that their own are hung.”

Both of us froze.

“Surely that’d be the talk of the town if they’d been hung already. They got caught last night.”

“Heard some of the others talking about it. No need for a trial, since they were caught red-handed, and, considering their publicity, none of them wanted to waste time giving them more of it.”

“That’s understandable. Thank you, for the warning. You have a good day, sir.”

“You two as well.” Delron sped forward, lurching the carriage into motion.

_“We can drive by quickly.”_

_“No, no, I need to see this.”_ I slowly peeked out from the edge of the covering, watching the recent criminals’ bodies hung in the daylight passing by.

At the end of the line was five new posts, each with a body hung from them. No name, no crime, just the posts and their corpses.

I sat back down, curled up, and let myself cry.

I could only hope we got to Luton without more heartbreak.

 

* * *

 

Luton was in ashes.

Delron was at my side in an instant, just as shocked as I was. He’d accompanied me, a few times, when I went to visit my mother and everyone else.

No one was there, glancing confusedly before realizing that it was me coming and they’d come racing over, talking animatedly while I recounted heroic deeds in a corrupt city, which Delron would quietly correct to make the children laugh.

It felt world-tremblingly lonely.

“Fae, maybe we shouldー"

“No, I need to see this.”

I could feel my world crumbling around me, watching the ashes of my childhood home.

Delron stood behind me, watching me crack and crumble.

“When I told that guard your village got attacked, I didn’t think I’d been telling the truth.” I managed a tired chuckle, too shocked to feel.

“Faestina?” a voice called from behind us. We both whirled around, Delron inching closer to defend me.

It was Siblya.

We knew each other, before I left for the city. We’d never been close, never running in the same circles, but we knew everyone here. Her pale blonde hair was messy and dull, pulled into a ponytail to keep it out of her face.

She’d never done that before. She was beyond proud of her hair.

She rushed forward, practically shoving Delron out of the way, despite his grumbling, and hugged me tightly. It was a little on the strange side, since she was almost a full head shorter than me, so I quietly tucked her head under my chin.

I don’t think I would’ve been able to talk, anyway.

After a few long moments, she pulled away, looking up at me with tears in her eyes.

“Siblya, what happened?” She froze, glancing down at the ground and gripping her arm tightly.

“I’m not sure. Some… people came in the middle of the night. Set everything on fire. My dad said he saw a few of them, but he’s not sure."

“Were they adventurers?”

“He didn’t say. We were more worried about saving what we could before we realized they were the ones who did this.”

“They started the fires? Why?”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” she glanced around me, wearily eyeing the ashes, “But we’re pretty sure it started here.”

“What?” Delron stepped forward, holding my shoulder in an attempt to keep me calm.

“Your mom’s place put itself out first. It took us a while to realize everyone was burning, but by the time we did, this whole area was already gone. Not a lot of us survived.”

“Who did?”

“Me, my dad, Lexi, Elyssa, Kyrillus, oh! That trader friend of your mom’s, I don’t remember her name.”

“Nithroel. She’s here?”

“Mhm. She was helping us with the fires, think she was staying with somebody else. We did what we could, but we couldn’t save everything.”

“What’s happening, to the people who died?”

“Part of the fire cleared out a chunk of the forest. All things considered, we’re trying to give the families some time to mourn, but the people who were with their families or on their own are probably already buried. We didn’t know how to contact you, so we went ahead and buried her. Do you… want to go see her?”

“Yeah, yeah I should,” I saw Delron looking over at me worried, “Alone, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll go wait with the horses.” He walked off, leaving me with Siblya, who started walking in the other direction.

We walked to the clearing, rows of stones with each person’s name carved into them.

All of them, _dead_.

“Who made these?”

“Nithroel did. She said she had some stoneworking tools for one of her dwarf friends, but didn’t think he’d mind, considering the circumstances. I think she got one of the others to help her out with them, but I’m not sure.”

Before I could think of stopping it, a chill swarmed in my stomach. The thought of Nithroel painstakingly carving out everyone’s names, the time she’d put into the people she knew so well and making sure they would be remembered.

“Do you want to see her?”

“No, just… Just my mother. I don’t think I could handle it.” We got close to her grave, and Siblya stood a few feet away, letting me walk in front of the stone. Once I was there, she backed off, walking away to do whatever she was in the middle of. I knelt down at the edge of the packed dirt, watching her grave in silence.

Before I could stop myself, I was reading the inscription.

> _Radmilla Stroud_
> 
> _A mother, a friend, and someone with more love than she could hold._
> 
> _Already dearly missed._

“I’m so sorry, Mama,” I whispered, unable to stay quiet, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I left you and everyone else here, and I’m _so sorry_ I was on that job and not here with you.” I started hiccuping and trying to wipe away my tears, but I wasn’t succeeding at all. “I won’t ask you to forgive me, I know it’s too late for that, but I wanted you to hear it from me now, not… not whenever we meet again.”

The wind stirred the ashes around again, whistling in the trees.

It sounded like her old lullaby.

I looked back up at her gravestone, seeing Nithroel’s obvious handwriting, and how much it must’ve hurt her to be carving the grave of the person she loved most. I couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt, burying her alone and having no way of contacting me to tell me.

The trees whispered to me again, prompting me to rise from where I was.

It was time to go. I couldn’t stay.

 

Delron was waiting with his horses, watching me carefully as I stepped up to sit next to him.

“We should get going.”

“‘We’? You sure you want to come with me?”

“I know you’ve been planning to leave for a while, get away from everything. That’s why your stuff’s in there too, isn’t it?” He jerked, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

“You pay way too much attention.”

“I had basically nothing better to do.” He chuckled, before smiling at me, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Fine, yeah I was. Wanted something new. Can you blame me for that?”

“No, I don’t. Besides,” I reached behind me to grab my crossbow, “Somebody needs to take potshots while you’re off trying to be the hero.” He laughed again, shoving at my shoulder.

“That’s how I fight, come on.” He flicked the reins, sending his horses into motion. We pulled out of what was left of Luton, hoping for some form of a new beginning.

 

* * *

 

The months passed, uneventful for the most part, outside of the occasional bandit that would get chased away.

Then, we realized that that _damned noble_ decided I was worth a bounty.

Of course, we didn’t find that out until the Men of the Night were on top of us, and we were lucky to get away when we did.

I was officially a fugitive.

If it hadn’t been for Delron, I sincerely doubt I would’ve survived for long with them on my trail. He passed himself off as a trader, always keeping strong scents in the carriage to disguise my own.

We both missed Torrine dearly, and I silently mourned my mother and my village. But we had each other. We stayed under the radar, were there for each other.

Until everything went to shit.

How funny that it wasn’t even a direct conflict, with how much of a big mistake everything felt like.

A crossbow bolt came in from out of nowhere, obviously emblazoned with the mark of the Night, and hit Delron in the stomach. Neither of us had magic, or a healer’s kit. He saw the mark at the same time I did, and told me to leave.

I tried to refuse.

He said that we’d gone through too much for me to die now.

I couldn’t handle the thought of losing him, didn’t _want_ to keep living if it was without him, that he meant too much to me to just **_let him die._ **

He told me he loved me.

He told me that he knew I didn’t feel the same way, that to me we’d only been friends, and he wanted me to know that someone loved me, without my village, the guild, without my mother, all unable to tell me that.

 

He died in my arms.

 

I left his cooling body and vanished into the forest.

I didn’t have him to rely on, none of his supplies.

I couldn’t be Faestina Zinraeli anymore.

  


I went to a new town, a day or so from the one Delron died near. I called myself Lorafine Jilthana, and lived like that for a while, surviving.

Then, I’d come home to find things moved around. Always felt eyes at the back of my head.

And I left.

I told the few people I’d gotten close to, then vanished. Left everything behind.

It’s been a long time, since Delron died. Since Luton went up in flames.

Since I fucked everything up.

But, he wanted me to live. I’m sure everyone else in the guild wanted me to, and my mother.

So I did.

As I snuck a glance over my shoulder, I saw the same cloak I’ve seen following me the last few days, and hid a sigh.

Seems it’s time for Lixiss to vanish too.

 

Despite how long I’ve been doing this, I can never just go. I always have to say goodbye.

They didn’t deserve their friend disappearing on them.

So I packed what I could carry and went to let them know.

I made my way to the small tavern in town. It was small and homey, and it reminded me so much of the Dragon, so it was a quick favorite. Yeah, the others were very loud and very obnoxious, but we were all close.

“Lixi! Where’ve you been?” the bartender shouted at my entrance, pulling bottles from under the counter.

“Keeping myself busy. You know me, couldn’t keep still if my life depended on it.”

“Ohhhh, you cooking up another scheme? Or is it something for here?”

“Wouldn’t you love to know?” We laughed together, falling in rhythm. He poured my usual ale, and slid it over to me. “I see that you’re just as busy as usual.”

“Got some new people in town. Pretty sure they’re adventurers.” I quietly shifted in my seat, trying to hide my uneasiness.

“Let’s hope they’re not pricks and have some sense of common decency.”

“One can only hope, eh?” He laughed again, smiling over at me. “Main guy I’m worried about’s hanging out with a priest, so I’m still fifty-fifty with him. We’ll have to see what the others do.” I giggled again, turning my head to face the noise that began to call him away.

“Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” He chuckled at me, before walking away and heading over to the other patrons.

I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me, watching him entirely in his element.

He reminded me so much of Salkas, worrying so much about everyone else. He always made sure everyone got home safe, being a shoulder to cry on, and being a storm when someone tried to play games with him.

I pulled out a folded sheet of paper from my bag, slowly reading it over.

 

> _This hurts a lot more than it should, but you deserve to know._
> 
> _I need to leave._
> 
> _I want you to know that this has nothing to do with you or anything anyone else did, it’s only from mistakes I made._
> 
> _I can’t figure out the words that would be able to tell you how sorry I am that I have to do this, but the fact remains that I do._
> 
> _I would hate for any of you to be caught in my problems._
> 
> _I hope to see each and every one of you again, one day._
> 
> _-Lixiss_

I refolded the paper, downed my glass, and left my payment on the counter. I set the paper underneath the glass, then glanced around. Everyone was distracted, so I tugged up my hood again and left the tavern.

And something hit my head.

I whirled around, trying to see through the sudden haze and figure out who hit me.

All I saw was a dark cloak, a black mask, and a black rod.

I blacked out.

 

And woke up in a strange world, a strange tent, with strange people.

_What the fuck?_

**Author's Note:**

> so i actually did a fic  
> this is weird.  
> it happened though!


End file.
